Conversing with ghosts
by El loopy
Summary: [Anne of the Island] It is Diana Barry's wedding and Anne takes a moment outside to mourn what has passed. Gilbert joins her. Slight Anne x Gilbert. Oneshot.


Left behind

Anne Shirley sat alone in the Barry garden. The sound of merriment and laughter and light in the building behind echoed out into the sweet summer air. She normally would have all sorts of imaginings on an evening such as this but instead her mind was still further away than up in the clouds; she was back in the past. She was watching two little ghost girls, one dark and one red-head (yes in her memory of her past self she would admit that it was more red than auburn) running around the garden. She watched as one fell off the roof trying to fulfil a dare and the other run to her side. She watched them laugh. She watched them tremble in fear at the prospect of walking through the Haunted Wood. She watched them cling to each other and cry when Mrs Barry forbade them from seeing each other. Her mind whisked her back still further and she saw a lonely orphan girl, trembling with excitement and fear, meet her first friend. Her to-be deepest and dearest.

Something inside Anne Shirley was breaking and she suspected it was her heart. They all said that she had nothing to be upset about; Diana was only moving a short way. Diana herself assured Anne that they would remain the same. They didn't understand. The one married first would never know or feel the deepness of the sorrow felt by the one left behind. The feeling of a connection cut, severed at the core and the vulnerability left by the open wound. The connection needed to be reshaped and regrown, and it would look different, but for the one just married – first married – there were too many new connections being made, new excitements, new futures to plan. They would merely turn back to it later, when all was quiet and be confused that it looked different. That was the role of the one left behind. To reform the connection, to adapt and adjust, before the newly wed ever noticed its absence. Diana had stepped into a world Anne could not follow nor compete with and so it was her job to bridge the gap, at least from her side.

A figure peeled itself away from the celebration and joined her.

"What are you doing out here Anne?"

Gilbert Blythe, another dear friend she had lost. Was she to lose them all to marriage or because of marriage one way or another?

"It is such a beautiful evening," she replied lightly, not looking at him. She knew her eyes would give her away.

Gilbert knew her too well to let her _tone_ not give her away.

"What's wrong?"

Anne sighed. "I am sad." She hurried on lest he think she was bitter. "I am happy for Diana, of course, but sad for me, for us. It will not be the same now she is married whatever folk may say."

Gilbert didn't speak for a moment.

"It is sad when you lose a friend because of love."

She felt that he did not purely speak of Diana no-longer-Barry but didn't pursue that route for fear she really would cry – the notion of crying on Gilbert Blythe being entirely nonsensical of course. She would not allow it.

"I just need to take a moment," she said quietly, "to mourn our childhood gone-by, our era at its end. Diana mustn't know," she turned to him and in her earnestness laid a hand on his arm. "You must not tell her! It will ruin her day!"

Gilbert removed her hand from his arm and clasped it between his own as he met her eyes.

"I won't tell her Anne, don't fret. We are just two old friends catching up."

Her mind was distracted a moment. It focused on those bright eyes and hands warm on her own and she felt a quickening of her heart. Not this time the desire to snatch her hand back...and yet after a beat he returned it to her and she felt the oddest sense of loss, as though her hand had belonged in his. That was nonsense of course. She was in love with Roy, and Gilbert with Christine. Her hand belonged in Roy's. She was just feeling lonely and it was far too dangerous.

"Am I wretched to feel this way on the happiest day of my dearest chum's life?" she whispered into the perfumed air and Gilbert shook his head.

"You are sad to lose her, Anne. It is natural. You still want the best for her even at the expense of your happiness. You are still a true friend."

His words helped, but only a little. They did nothing to alleviate the empty ache that grew bigger with each engagement, each wedding and each glimpse of Gilbert with that Christine girl.

"It is all over," she sighed in desolation, a tad dramatically and was surprised by Gilbert's laugh. She turned to him hotly, eyes flashing but he met them levelly with his own amused ones.

"I haven't heard you speak like that for years," he smiled and against her will her own anger melted and she began to smile back, laughing at herself.

"Yes, I suppose you haven't. I sometimes think I am doing so well and then I slip."

"It is what comes of conversing with ghosts," Gilbert teased.

"Of Summertides of yore," she added both dreamily and sadly.

Gilbert offered her his arm. "Come on. Let's go back into the present, leave the ghosts alone. You owe me a dance Anne Shirley."

She took his arm with a smile, her heart unaccountably feeling lighter at the prospect of a dance with Gilbert. As they walked back into the chatter and fun and laughter she glanced back only once; saying a sad, silent goodbye to the two little ghost girls of the past, their hands clasped in friendship.


End file.
